


viande rouge

by cracktheglasses (cormallen)



Series: viande rouge [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Cannibalism (referenced), Crying, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dolcett - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gaslighting, Guro (referenced), Impalement (referenced), Kylo Ren eats people, M/M, Mind Games, Murder (referenced), Psychological Horror, Sexual Horror, Sexual Slavery, a match made in Stockholm, everything is horrible and everything hurts, kylux 33 days of guro, kyluxhardkinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/pseuds/cracktheglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part of it, Hux tells himself, is that he could have liked Kylo. Probably. Possibly. Not after everything Kylo’s been doing to him. Feeding him. Fucking him. Plugging him up. Locking him in his cage for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	viande rouge

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for both [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/) [Kylux 33 Days of Guro challenge](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/post/147223172646/33-days-of-guro-kylux-challenge) (day 3, cannibalism), and for the [ Dolcett + top!Kylo prompt](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/147118146463/prompt-involving-major-character-death-below-the) at [@kyluxhardkinks](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/): _Kylo mercilessly fucks Hux to make him nice and tender, he tells him how much he’s going to love being impaled all the way through with a spit and how much he’s going to come full and roasting_.
> 
> [@the-garbage-chute](http://the-garbage-chute.tumblr.com/), you are awesome! Thank you for @kyluxhardkinks, for poking at me about prompts, for listening to me go on with my "if I were to fill this", all of your invaluable help, and being gracious enough to murder my semicolons for me!
> 
> PS: [there is now a follow-up drabble](http://cracktheglasses.tumblr.com/post/147600520936/viande-rouge-redux) AND the amazing @saltandlimes [wrote an INCREDIBLE crossover](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7525996) between this Kylo and [In My Study](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7478787/chapters/16997067) Hux, which follows the drabble!

“When I first saw you in that suit,” Kylo says, punctuates it with a slow push of his hips, “I just knew I wanted to peel it off you. Unwrap you. Taste how sweet and soft you were underneath.”

His breath is hot and damp over Hux’s ear, the tip of his tongue sliding out to lick over the fleshy lobe before he opens his lips, catches it between his teeth. Hux gasps at the sudden spark in the pit of his belly. His earlobes are so very sensitive.

“Mmm,” Kylo hums, continues to work the spot with his teeth, rolling it softly over his tongue, making Hux flutter deep inside, making him clench down over the press of Kylo’s dick. Kylo laughs, throaty and low, pulling back.

“Wish you knew how good you feel on the inside,” he says, and runs a hand down Hux’s side, squeezing his fingers into the bottom of Hux’s ribcage, into the soft jiggle of belly. “So smooth and hot, squeezing down on me like that. Want to fuck you deep, until that’s all you can feel. Me, everywhere in you, your ass, your mouth. Right here,” Kylo lets his hand slide underneath, until his palm is pressing right above Hux’s navel, huge and hot. He flexes his fingers, one by one, and _grabs_ , pinches the roll of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “Right here,” he says again, the thick stretch of his dick prying Hux open, his asshole loose and sloppy with the oil Kylo has slicked over his rim.

He can smell it in the air, the slightly stale, nutty scent of it. If he turned his head to the left, he’d be able to see the bottle, pale green glass with a peeling gold label, not anything Hux has ever used in his own kitchen, and the thought scrapes at something inside his throat, punches a little gasp from him more certainly than the head of Kylo’s dick dragging over his prostate.

The worst part of it, Hux tells himself as Kylo strokes the top of his ass, fits his massive hands over Hux’s cheeks as he keeps pushing deeper into his hole, is that he could have liked Kylo. Probably. Possibly. In some sort of parallel universe where Kylo was -- maybe not his boyfriend. He can’t really picture a universe where Kylo could be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone his. But maybe some kind of perpetual booty call, a hot mess with benefits, manhandling him onto all fours after a few digits punched into the phone late at night, Hux loose and pleasantly drunk and slightly cloudy. Kylo holding him steady, tracing his hands over Hux’s ass, his back, his sides. Fucking him lazily, slowly, deeply, from behind.

Kylo _is_ holding him steady, one arm caged around him, Hux braced on elbows and knees on the thin mattress. The cuffs are chafing his wrists. Kylo’s cock is buried deep in him, and the slow push of his hips against his backside feels so good that Hux can’t help it, can’t help the next choked off whine falling from his mouth. Kylo knows exactly how Hux likes to be fucked; where to touch, when to lick, how hard to bite. He slides back, twisting his hips just so, and Hux braces for it, knows Kylo is about to slam into him hard, really make him feel it. He always comes embarrassingly quickly when Kylo fucks him like this, and god, _fuck_ , he could almost like Kylo, could almost imagine he is here because he really wants to be -- if only Kylo would shut the fuck up.

Kylo won’t, of course; he never does, not when he has Hux cuffed, impaled on his cock, the rough scratch of the mattress under his knees. He isn’t a booty call, or a friend with benefits; certainly not his boyfriend, or anything even remotely describable in normal terms.

“Right here,” Kylo says again, and traces a line from the bottom of Hux’s quivering stomach, up, bisecting his navel, then higher, nails digging into the center of his chest. He changes hands, reaches around Hux’s shoulders to the front of his throat, continuing the line up until the pad of his thumb is pressing into Hux’s lower lip.

“Open,” Kylo says. Hux opens his mouth obediently, takes Kylo’s thumb inside, tightening his lips around it. Kylo pushes it in as far as it will go, until it feels like his nail is scraping at the back of Hux’s throat. Hux chokes, coughs, throat spasming, but Kylo doesn’t withdraw, presses down onto Hux’s tongue instead, causing the spasm to intensify. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, involuntary response, leaving wet smears on his cheeks.

“You can take it,” Kylo says, almost gently. “You will.” He keeps his thumb in Hux’s mouth, tasting of salt, the nail sharp against his tongue, as he speeds up, dick rasping in and out of Hux with arrhythmic urgency. His thrusts are heavy and hard; he’s working himself towards coming, towards filling Hux up in warm sticky pulses, and Hux jolts in frantic anticipation, teeth closing reflexively over the base of Kylo’s thumb.

Kylo hisses, a drawn in breath, and presses a hot, wet kiss to the back of Hux’s neck. He doesn’t let up, keeps screwing into Hux deep, relentless, pistoning in like a machine, balls slapping against Hux’s crack. Hux’s thighs are trembling, knees going weak and shaky; his dick untouched, hard, spurting up dribbles of precome all over the bottom of his stomach.

“I’m gonna gut you, first. Get you all nice and cleaned out,” Kylo promises tenderly, hot breath whuffing over the back of Hux’s neck, making the short hairs there stand straight up. His hand is out of Hux's mouth, back to massaging his rounded belly. It’s thicker now, softer, than it was a week ago. Two. Three. Full, just like the swell of his ass, the give of his thighs. The suit Kylo liked on him, back in the hotel bar, charcoal herringbone flannel -- Hux doesn’t think it would fit him now, even if Kylo hadn’t sliced it straight up the back. It wouldn’t; not after everything Kylo’s been doing to him. Feeding him. Fucking him. Plugging him up. Locking him up in his cage for the night.

“There are machines,” Kylo says, hips still working, and starts jerking Hux off. “Strap you in, get you opened and spiked through and stitched up in less than five minutes, easy as can be. I like to do it myself, though. The old-fashioned way. I’m really good. You’ll see. I’ve had lots of practice.” He tightens and loosens his fist as he works Hux’s cock, plays his fingers lightly over his cockhead.

“You’re gonna be so pretty when I get you open,” he says right into Hux’s ear, like it’s a secret. “So pink and shiny on the inside. Don’t worry; you’ll be awake the whole time, wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

He stills his hand on Hux’s dick for a moment, the tip of a finger pressing right over his slit, digging in a little. Hux mewls.

“You’re barely going to feel it at first, the knife going in. It’ll be like a surprise. Can’t wait to see your face when you start to, so good and sharp.”

Kylo gives Hux’s dick a long slow stroke, root to tip, squeezes thumb and index finger right under the head.

“Gonna pull you apart, gonna get everything out of you, all the messy things you don’t need. Run some water through, make sure it’s not too cold for you. Then, once you’re all emptied out, I’m going to get you on the spit. Going to fuck you with it.”

Hux bites his lip so hard his vision wavers, going black and blurry at the edges.

“You’re so tight, Hux. So narrow,” Kylo says. “Feel so good on my dick, but the spit, that’s going to hurt. I’ll have to get my fingers in you first, get you stretched for it. Fuck you open the night before, get you slicked up with my come and then put your plug in, plug it up in you, so you’re still all wet and open and ready for it in the morning.”

Hux feels his cock jerk in Kylo’s grip, feels Kylo run his fingers firmly up and down the shaft.

“It’s going to hurt anyway. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t promise it won’t.”

Kylo resumes stroking him fast, steady pressure on his cock, milking more precome out of the tip. Pulses of hot, agonizing pleasure-pain jolt through him with each pound of Kylo’s dick into him; Hux’s balls are full, tight, drawing up between his soft thighs.

“Going to put it in you nice and smooth, push it up through. Won’t stitch you up until it’s all the way in you so you can see it in your belly, gleaming and slick. It’s going to hurt; _of course_ , it’ll hurt, but it’ll be incredible, too. It’s like nothing else, Hux. I want you to feel it, so much. Gonna fuck you so deep, so hard, like nobody else. Fill you up all the way, your pretty ass to your sweet mouth.”

Hux tries to focus on just this, on the edges of Kylo’s phrases. The words that almost sound like pillow talk he’s heard before. Almost like pillow talk Hux’s given before, slow hands, even voice, describing everything he’s going to do in calm, meaningless babble, coaxing a fresh, skittish partner --

_\-- I have one finger in you right now, I'm going to slide it in and out, gently, get you slick, get you open; it already feels good, it'll feel even better. It might hurt a little, when I put another in, you're so tight, so narrow. I can't promise it won't hurt, but it'll be incredible, too, so good --_

\-- and that's when Hux sobs, wet, heavy, in his throat, Kylo’s hand stripping his dick, wringing his orgasm from him, body spasming, clenching, gripping hard onto Kylo’s dick deep in his ass.

“Fuck,” Kylo snaps out, breathy, and Hux feels his come flood inside him, coating him warm and slippery wet. He shudders, trembles, coming down, lets out another miserable, pathetic whimper as Kylo slides his fat, still mostly hard cock out of his used, opened hole.

He stares straight ahead, at the spit propped up against the far wall. It’s enormous, immense, _thick_ ; has to be, Kylo said, to hold his weight. The pointed, stainless steel tip looks almost razor sharp, gleaming in the light from the overhead bulb.

Behind him, Kylo shifts, stretches, reaching for Hux’s plug, for the bottle of oil.

“Sweetheart,” Kylo says, patting him lightly on the ass, then shifting his hand to his hip and gripping him tight. “Stay just like that a little longer for me, need to get your plug in you, then you can lie down on your belly.”

This plug is larger than the one Kylo put in him to start with, larger than the one he used last week. Even slicked up with the oil, with Kylo's come leaking steadily out of his stretched, gaping hole, it makes him ache as Kylo slips it in, the width of it screwing into his sore, abused walls. His ass closes around its narrowed neck with a dirty wet squelch, and Kylo grips the plug by the base, rocks it a little inside him, his other hand pressing light, but insistent, into the small of Hux's back.

Hux takes it for the order it is, goes down to his front on the mattress, careful of his still cuffed hands. It's awkward, uncomfortable, until Kylo helps him, thick, muscled arm sliding under his shoulders, getting him to settle.

He feels the oil dripped down his back, sluicing cool down his spine, and then Kylo begins to rub it into his skin in long, sweeping strokes. It feels good on his tired muscles; Hux relaxes into the floor, into Kylo's touch, his long, thick fingers lingering over his shoulder blades, down his sides, mapping him out like Kylo is trying to commit him to memory.

“You’re so sensitive, Hux. So perfect. Just know you're going to taste as perfect as you look,” Kylo says above him. “Can't wait until you're ready to go over the coals. I'll make it last, you'll see. You're going to feel so much of it, feel yourself get hot and dripping, smell it. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. I've managed twenty before, I think I can keep you going.”

Face pressed into the mattress, Kylo's hands still rubbing him slick, Hux doesn't realize he is crying until Kylo is gathering him up, pressing him tight into his hard, wide chest. He sobs in Kylo's arms, shoulders shaking, throat vibrating with choking hiccups.

He had tried to remember, at first, the things they said you were supposed to do, the things that maybe could help. Make them call you by name. Make them see you as a person, make it more difficult for them, make them doubt, make them care. It's in all the books, all the articles: some plucky blonde heroine making the villain softer, subtly, carefully, step by tiny, courageous step.

But Kylo has always called him by name. He's soft with Hux, careful, his arms wrapping around Hux's trembling back with a gentle sort of reverence, like he can't quite believe he has Hux there. Can't quite believe how easy he’d been to get.

“Sweetheart,” Kylo says, letting Hux’s head loll against his, the tears still coming, blurry and big, wetting the crook of Kylo's neck. “Sweetheart, Hux, please, don't cry. It’s going to be a while yet. Weeks, at least.”

One of Kylo's huge paws scrabbles down to his ass, grabs a handful, travels around to his front, testing at the give, the depth of flesh there.

“See? You're not ready yet,” Kylo says, turning to kiss Hux's wet cheek. He kisses the tracks of tears from under his eyes, kisses Hux's sloppy, reddened nose. Kisses his eyelids, his forehead, his swollen, bitten lips. Hux lets him. It feels good, Kylo's tongue warm and slick as it slides into his mouth. Kylo's lips over his sharp, wide teeth, smooth, silky, and so, so soft.

He is still sniffling a little when Kylo pulls back. Kylo thumbs at the corner of his mouth, his cheek, indulgent, like he's coddling a messy child. Hux flinches.

“I'm going to put you back into your cage now, sweetheart, all right?” Kylo says, like it's a question, but Hux knows better. He nods. Sniffles again.

“OK, Kylo,” he says weakly, lets Kylo lead him inside, waits for him to slide the gate shut.

“Hands,” Kylo says from the other side.

Hux nods again. Steps forward, eyes to the ground. Presents his wrists to the bars, waits for Kylo to uncuff him.

He's rubbing at his sore, chafed wrists when Kylo heads for the stairs, thumbing at the switch of the overhead light as he goes. The nightlight flips on faintly as the overhead goes off, wavering soft yellow in the corner. Kylo watches him from the doorway for a few moments, hand already on the knob.

“Goodnight, Hux,” he says, then the door clicks shut.

He is alone with the crawling, deep semi-darkness and the spit up against the wall, illuminated by the little light. Hux tries not to look at it, but he can’t help it. Stretched out on the padded floor of his cage, he pillows his head on his hands and watches the shadows at its base. The grooves for where it's meant to lock into place. The sharp, pointed, horrible tip. He stares at it until it blurs, doubles and triples in his eyes, and the play of the light over its steel gleam looks like fire.

Hux closes his eyes. Curls his knees up to his stomach, arms wrapped around their bony sharpness, and waits for morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Come shame me on [tumblr](http://cracktheglasses.tumblr.com/), as usual.
> 
> ALSO! [there is now a follow-up drabble](http://cracktheglasses.tumblr.com/post/147600520936/viande-rouge-redux) (or below) AND the amazing @saltandlimes [wrote an INCREDIBLE crossover](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7525996) between this Kylo and [In My Study](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7478787/chapters/16997067) Hux, which follows the drabble!
> 
> In the mornings, while he eats his breakfast, Kylo likes watching Hux sleep.
> 
> He settles at the kitchen island, laptop flipped open, works at his plate with fork and knife as he watches the screen, the camera focused on the cage bars.
> 
> It’s hard to make out everything; the overhead lamp is off for the evening, and the little night light picks out the glimmer of the metal, the lock on the gate, the water bottle outside, within Hux’s reach when he needs it.
> 
> Hux is curled up into a corner, one hand tucked boyishly under his cheek. He’s bent himself practically in half; Kylo can see the outline of his knees under his blanket, sharp and bony and almost touching his chest. His mouth is half open, a trickle of wet glistening down his chin, more already drying on the padding underneath. His shoulders shift, chest rising and falling with fitful breaths; if he squints, pushes closer to the screen, Kylo can see his throat quiver, the soft flutter of his lashes over his pale, damp cheeks.
> 
> Hux sighs in his sleep, deep and low; the blanket slides down his chest as he turns, stretches out one long skinny arm. The sight of it, so defenseless on the cage floor, Hux’s delicate fingers, his narrow wrist with the dark ring of cuff-scraped skin, fills Kylo with a sudden tenderness, a soft indescribable joy that bubbles up from the pit of his stomach, up through his chest, like it’s about to spill forth from his throat.
> 
> He touches a hand to the screen. Traces Hux’s shape, leaving a fingerprint behind.
> 
> Breakfast finished, Kylo gets up, puts his plate into the sink, pours himself a quick glass of water.
> 
> When he turns back, the basement light has turned on bright and stark on the screen, his own back in the frame as he crouches in front of the cage bars.
> 
> Kylo pauses the recording. He already knows what he says next.
> 
> _Wake up, sweetheart. It’s time._


End file.
